“O‑oh, I’m getting sick!”
Nancy had not been disturbed by the rocking motion of the boat. Though she had made many voyages, including one ocean trip, she had never been seasick in her life. Nevertheless, she was far from comfortable as she sat in the stuffy little cabin. Her clothing, which was thoroughly wet, clung tightly to her body and the gag bothered her a great deal.
As Mary’s discomfort increased, she began to carry on a great deal. Finally, she slumped down on an old cot at one end of the cabin and, save for an occasional groan, remained quiet.
“Now is my chance!” Nancy told herself grimly.
Taking care not to make a sound which might arouse the girl, she wriggled about in her chair and tried to free her hands from the cords. In vain she struggled. It was impossible to loosen her bonds. At last she gave up in despair.
Even more than before, she realized the hopelessness of her situation. Should anything happen to the motorboat, she was entirely at the mercy of her captors, and from the indications, they would not care what became of her anyway.
While Nancy Drew was occupied with unpleasant meditation, Bud Mason came staggering into the cabin. He gave a little groan and sank down into the nearest chair. Mary stirred on the cot and glanced up at him.
“What’s the matter?” she asked listlessly.
“Can’t you see? I’m seasick.”
“I wish this old tub would stop rocking. I’m about under myself. Why doesn’t Tom tie up?”